A Form of Payment
by xBooxBooxBear
Summary: Taking place during the Industrial Revolution, Wilson works hard as a mechanic in Maxwell's Textile Factory and he does a good job of it, which is what catches his boss's attention but when Wilson accidentally starts a riot, all for defending the kids he cares about, he has to pay and Maxwell isn't thinking shillings.


**A/N: This story isn't completely historically accurate but I tried. Warning! This story contains rape.**

* * *

Wilson walked out of his home in the sums on the eastern side of London. It was early in the morning and the winter rain paid the city a visit. The degrees dropped, turning the rain into a cold white lace that delicately covered the town with its grace. It cleaned the smoggy and smoky air, not by a lot, for the young gentleman to actually breathe without coughing.

He hadn't realized how long he had stood on his stoop, gazing at the beauty before him until he started shivering frantically. The tip of his nose and the tip of his fingertips were glacial. He sneezed and bundled up his dirty coat and walked towards the street. He walked down the sidewalk, blowing into his fingerless gloved hands and rubbed them up together in attempt to heat them up. He really needed to get a new pair before his fingers froze off but times were tough and he couldn't afford it. He barely made enough to feed himself and his dog, Chester. His job didn't pay enough for the amount of time and effort he put in, but then again, no place did. The only place he was able to get work was as a mechanic in Maxwell's Textile Factory. He spent 14 hours walking around the giant factory, maintaining and fixing broken machines. It was hard work with little pay but it was better than nothing.

He sighed when he finally reached the street where the large factory was in sight; the building practically devoured the whole block. He walked towards it, feeling absolute reluctance and despair. He was midway across the street when a carriage came charging at him, nearly running him over. Wilson ran for the other side and tumbled into a pile of snow. He shook free of the snow damping his clothes, picked himself up and glowered at the driver.

"Watch were you're going, you sodding-" He stopped when the passenger stepped out of the carriage. The man stood tall and proud, wearing an expensive winter coat. He opened his jacket pocket and retrieved a cigar from inside and lit it with a match. He inhaled deeply and stared down Wilson with cold black eyes. Wilson gulped and stumbled backwards, falling into the snow again. He picked himself up and wiped the snow off his damp coat. He looked up at the man with apologetic brown eyes. "Mr. Maxwell, sir, I-"

Maxwell's lips twisted into an unnerving grin which stopped the young man in midsentence. Fear paralyzed his body from that eerie smile alone.

"Wilson Higgsbury, just what are you doing in the middle of the street? My driver nearly killed you." The tall man exhaled the smoke into Wilson's face. He coughed and swatted the smoke away, freeing his, now, watery eyes.

"I-"

"Say pal-" Maxwell interrupted him "-is there some reason why you aren't already inside my factory?"

"I, uh, was on my way, s-sir." Wilson stuttered, in fear or coldness, he couldn't tell.

Maxwell's smile widened. He licked his lips and inclined down, his face merely inches away from the terrified worker. His tongue clicked behind his lips in delight as he devoured the fear that glistened like gold in those beautiful brown eyes. He brought a silken gloved hand to Wilson's chilled pale cheek. The man psychically flinched at the touch but relaxed slightly when no harm came. He held perfectly still as Maxwell's thumb caressed over his cheek. He held his breath and dared not to look into the eyes of his boss, where the devil himself hid in them and tried to steal your soul. Wilson closed his eyes and wished he could just disappear.

"I would strongly suggest getting to work before me, pal, because-" His voice was dangerously low and dripped with venom. He leaned closer towards Wilson, the cigar between his teeth nearly burnt his other cheek. "-The next time it happens, not only will I allow my driver to run you over, but I'll cut off your head and mount it over my fireplace while the rats make a meal out of your puny body." Maxwell smiled in satisfaction when eyes ripe with fear stared back. "Do you understand, pal?"

Wilson nodded quickly. "Yes…sir."

The tall man chuckled and patted the man's cheek. "That's a good, lad." He slowly removed his hand and straightened himself up.

Wilson wasted no time the moment he was free from Maxwell's hold. He dashed from the man and ran towards the factory. Maxwell watched with delight. He loved having that effect on people.

* * *

Wilson wiped away the bead of sweat that trickled down from his forehead. He bit his lip and let out drawn out sigh of relief when he finally fixed the pressure vessel of the boiler to the steam engine. He had taken over fixing it after one of his fellow mechanics, Woodie, failed to keep up with the maintenance. Maxwell's factory manager, Charlie, caught him and brought him to Maxwell's office. Wilson didn't know what happened in that office but knowing Maxwell, it didn't end well for Woodie. Wilson honestly wouldn't be surprised if he ended killing him.

The young man had been working on one of the broken spinning jennies when Charlie ordered him to fix the vessel. Wilson tried to protest and inform Charlie that he needed to fix it so the children could get back to work but she notified him that Maxwell specifically ordered him to do it. Wilson had no choice but to comply and leave his three favorite child workers: The twins, Wendy and Abigail, and Webber.

Wilson stood up straight and cracked the joints in his back, relinquishing a happy sigh. He quickly gave one last overlook to the machine, making sure everything was intact when Charlie approached him.

"Good work, Higgsbury." Charlie spoke, startling him. "Master Maxwell was right entrusting you with this task."

Wilson nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Now get back to the spinning jenny. Another idiot mechanic attempted to fix it but broke it instead. I swear, you're the only brilliant one in this whole factory." Charlie mumbled and walked off in another direction.

Wilson groaned at the information he'd received and went to fix the re-broken jenny. When he returned, he saw Abigail was gone and Wendy and Webber were crying hysterically. The mechanic immediately ran to them, knelt down and asked them what happened. The children instantly embraced him in a hug as they cried in his chest.

"Abby got hurt!" they wept.

"What? How?" Wilson asked, earnestly.

"She-she got her hand stuck in the machine." Wendy sobbed.

"Some men were able to-to get it out but-but"

"Her hand was cut off!"

"There was so much blood!"

They cried harder into Wilson, whom hugged them and comforted them the best he could. He cooed them and let them cry on his waist coat, even though it was dirty. They were shaking violently and were traumatized with everything that happened. He glanced at the machine and nearly puked at the sight of the decapitated hand still stuck in the machine. Wilson mentally cursed the idiot whom attempted to fix the machine and hoped Maxwell would deliver in a rightfully earned punishment.

"It's alright, guys." Wilson cooed softly. He rubbed their backs in comfort which caused them to cling onto him tighter. "Abby is going to be alright."

"Wilson," Wendy pulled away and looked at Wilson. Her chin trembled and her face was red, much like her eyes and tears were falling almost endlessly. "Abby isn't going to die, is she?"

The mechanic sighed. He brought his thumb to her cheeks and wiped away the tears. "She's going to be alright, Wendy. She won't die, I promise."

Webber pulled away and together they looked at him with tear-stained eyes. "Promise?" they asked.

Wilson smiled softly and nodded. "I promise. She's going to be just fine."

That seemed to comfort the children. They nodded and sniffed their noses before they embraced him again. They nuzzled up against his slightly scruffy chin, not caring at all that they were getting grease and oil on their faces. Wilson held them tightly and calmed them down. They stayed like that for several minutes until the overlooker came and snapped at them to get back to work.

* * *

Maxwell was sitting at his desk, overlooking some paperwork when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in." He called, without glancing up.

The door opened and his number two, Charlie, walked in. "Master Maxwell, there's been another incident."

Maxwell inhaled his cigar and flipped over a document, still not peering up but Charlie could tell he was irritated.

"There seems to be a constant rash of incidents and malfunctions today." He growled.

"Sir, the child must be taken to the infirmary. Her hand was caught in the broken jenny and was sliced off."

"She can still work."

"Sir!" Charlie objected. Normally, she wouldn't insist like this but the child lost a hand and desperately needed medical attention.

Maxwell groaned irritably. "Fine! Take her to the infirmary but I'm deducting her day's pay."

Charlie nodded and whirled towards the exit when Maxwell stopped her with a "Wait."

She turned around to face her boss. "Sir?"

Maxwell was finally looking at her now. His narrowed eyes were black as coal and his expression was hard and angry as steel. "You said the broken jenny?"

She nodded.

Maxwell raised a brow. "How did she lose her hand on a broken machine?"

"One of the mechanics attempted to fix it after you ordered Wilson Higgsbury to fix the pressure vessel on the steam engine. Honestly, sir, the factory would be in better shape if we only had Wilson. He seems to be the only one capable of doing his job and doing it accurately."

A smile crept upon Maxwell's thick lips as he inhaled the tobacco from his cigar. "I agree."

Charlie smiled back, knowing full well the meaning of that smile.

Maxwell nodded and ordered, "Continue."

"When Wilson was pulled, another mechanic attempted to fix the jenny. He thought he'd fixed it, so naturally, the children tried to get back to work but when it broke down, one of the children checked on it and the machine started back up on its own and took her hand."

Maxwell snarled in disgust and gritted his teeth against the cigar. He stood up from his desk and walked behind it to face the window overlooking his factory. He clamped his hands behind his back and watched his workers.

"Was it Wes?"

"Yes, sir."

Maxwell glimpsed over his shoulder. "Fetch him for me, won't you?"

Charlie nodded, knowing only too well what was about to happen. "Yes, sir."

She turned for the door and closed it behind.

Maxwell reached for his cigar and exhaled the smoke at the window while he surveyed his low wage workers. He watched them sweat and bleed as they wearily worked the best they could, with so little to eat and sleep. It made him glad to be the one on top and in control. He didn't have to worry about food or money. He was fabulously wealthy in both. The only thing he had to worry about were the idiotic mechanics he'd hired. They would ruin his whole factory if it weren't for the one mechanic that actually did his job correctly.

A knock on his door pulled the man from his thoughts and commanded them to enter. He listened to the soft quiet stride of Wes enter and delicately shut the door behind him, then carefully walked to the center of the room and waited.

"S-sir?" Wes asked, his voice soft and timid, almost like a mouse would own it.

Maxwell didn't respond nor did he turn from the window. He delighted in the fear that coursed through the air and loved that he was the cause of it.

"M-Mr. Maxwell?" squeaked Wes. He fidgeted anxiously. "You-you asked for me?"

Finally, the tall man replied. "Why yes, pal, I did." He still didn't turn. "I was informed that, yet again, you messed up another machine. However; you cost me a worker this time which means slower progress."

"I-I'm sorry sir!" Wes stuttered. "I-I just wanted to help."

"Oh? You did?" Maxwell chuckled darkly. "Well, pal, you fucked up everything instead."

"Maxwell, I-"

"Do not address me so formally, _pal_!" Maxwell barked. He glowered over his shoulder at the shaking man behind him. He leered at the fear held in those blue eyes.

The tall man finally turned and faced his employee. He brought his cigar to his lips and wordlessly took a drag. He slowly walked towards the trembling man until stopped in front of him and towered over him, like the clock tower to the city. His frown curved up into a sinister grin and observed the young man's state. Fear was such a lovely thing. He leaned down until he was eye-level, then confined them in his soulless blacks.

He bore into his eyes for what seemed like hours. Wes tried to look away but he was imprisoned by that hypnotic gaze. His body was frozen with fear and all he could do was stare back into those eyes that were trying to claim his very soul.

"You've cost me much damage today. You and that other idiot mechanic. For that, I'm dismissing you." Maxwell breathed then released Wes from his gaze and returned to the window.

It took Wes a moment to pull himself together. When he realized what was said he replied with, "But sir!"

"I've made my decision." Maxwell retorted.

"Sir, please! I need this job! I-I was only trying to please you!"

Maxwell chuckled. "You know very well how you can please me. Fixing a machine that wasn't requested for you, isn't the way."

"S-sir, please! I beg of you! I have a family I have to support! Without this job, we will die!" Wes begged desperately. "I will do anything you ask of me!"

Again, Maxwell chuckled. He turned and gazed at the face of such a pitiful creature. He arched his brow and smirked, mockingly replied with, "Oh? Now you're going to whore yourself to me, willingly? That's no fun." He laughed. "That's all very well, pal, but I've grown bored of you. You're such a pathetic measly thing. You're hardly enjoyable anymore."

Maxwell turned towards the window, finished with the conversation. Wes knew this. He knew that his boss was done but he couldn't give up. "S-sir, I can do better! I can make you feel better than you've ever felt before! Please just give me one more chance!"

Maxwell brought the stub of his cigar to his lips and inhaled the last of the tobacco. He exhaled the smoke then tossed the bud into a nearby ash tray. He finally replied to Wes but when he did, it was with a dangerously threatening tone. "If I ever see you before my presence again, I will do the world a favor and cut your tongue out of your head. The only noise you will ever make is when you whore yourself, like the one you are to, feed your worthless family. Now, you may see yourself out."

Tears speckled in Wes' eyes but nodded silently to himself. He turned on his heel and walked out of the office.

Maxwell laughed when Wes left. It was pathetic to see the man attempt to whore himself to his boss to keep his job. Sure, the innocent boy had been his plaything for a few months. He had enjoyed bringing the shy creature into his office and fucking him dry. He had made pleasurable mewing noises. The man had been pleasurable but something about him bored him. Wes had been the ideal toy. He was innocent and naïve. He was cute and quiet; perfect to break. Perhaps it was the constant failures around the factory that caused him to grow bored. It was no fun playing with a toy that was costing you time and money. He needed a new toy. One that he had lately been interested in.

He smiled to himself and watched Wilson work on the pressure vessel below.

* * *

The end of the long 14 hour shift finally came. All the workers were exhausted beyond imagination, Wilson especially. He had to fix and maintain almost every machine. Another mechanic had been fired, making it the third for the day.

Thankfully, though, it was payday. Wilson got his week's pay of 25 shillings but was surprised when he received an extra 10. He had never been paid this much before. Could it have been because of all his hard work today? Surely not! Maxwell wasn't generous in the slightest when it came to money.

Wilson stared up at the man's office in confusion like it provided the answers to this confusion. He tensed and felt his nerves spike downwards when he caught sight of a figure in the window. He wanted to melt into a puddle onto the floor as the man's gaze was fixated on him. Maxwell simply smiled at him and Wilson knew then that it hadn't been a mistake. He watched like a statue as the man walked away from the window, releasing Wilson from his spellbinding. He sighed in relief and felt his heart start up again.

He made for the exit then stopped when he heard his name called. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled as Webber and Wendy ran to his side. He knelt down and embraced them with a hug. The two seemed to have slightly calmed from the incident earlier. Wilson found it remarkable that they could even recover from such a traumatizing event but perhaps he had said the right things and he was grateful. He had received word that Abigail was alright and had been sent home to rest and recover. He had also found out from a nurse that Maxwell had cut her pay due to the accident. In Wilson's opinion, the idiot at fault should have his pay cut and given to Abigail. Of course, that was out of the question. At least he knew what he would do with his extra shillings.

Wilson walked hand in hand with the kids out of their cruel work and into the cold snow outside. The kids huddled up against Wilson and shared their body heat with him. The mechanic looked down at the cold miserable faces on the children's faces. They were so fatigued and upset about everything, it squeezed Wilson's heart. He decided with some of his extra pay, they'd get some sweeties from a nearby drug store. The kids were delighted in this and it instantly cheered them up. Wilson walked the children home to each house and received a big thanks for helping them get home safely. When he dropped Wendy off at her home, he gave her parents his extra earnings which he caused the mother to cry in grief and delight. She asked him to join them for dinner but Wilson politely declined saying he needed to get home and get some shut eye. The twin's parents understood and thanked him again.

The cold air seemed to have gotten nipper. He swore he was half frozen when he finally made it home. His dog, Chester was more than pleased to see his owner home. He jumped up on him and greeted him with slobbery kisses. Wilson happily greeted back to his dog before he took him out for a quick walk. When they returned, he lit a fire and warmed himself up before he made a light supper for himself. He had warm porridge with some tea and sat by the fire. The food was bland but it helped warm up his cold insides which was enough to satisfy him for the moment. He cleaned up after himself then went to bed, falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Wilson managed to get to work before Maxwell. The man noticed this and smiled with a nod towards the mechanic as he walked to his office. Wilson frowned and shuddered at that but continued his work.

The day continued much like every other day only this time it was more hectic for him because of the extra work he had to pick up since Woodie, Wolfgang and Wes were fired. Today, it seemed every machine wanted to break down and malfunction. Half-way through his shift, he was nearly covered all over in grease.

He wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead, smudging it together with the grease. He finally finished another machine when Charlie informed him of another broken jenny for him to fix. Wilson sighed tiredly and made his way towards the machine. He was happy a jenny needed some fixing. It meant he could see his favorite workers. However, when he saw entered the room, he saw an overlooker abusing the children. The man was slamming his fist into their cheeks and when they fell to the ground and begged for him to stop, he didn't. He continued to beat them until Wilson saw blood gushing out of their mouths.

Wilson dropped his tools and charged after the man. He tackled him onto the ground and started punching him. The overlooker threw Wilson onto the floor beside the beaten children. Wilson glowered at the man spitefully and stood up in front of the man, defending the two children.

"You don't bloody hit children!" Wilson snarled. "Especially not ones who're working hard!"

"Pft, 'em? They ain't hard workers. They're slackers. They deserve to be beaten like the l'ttle shites they are!"

Wilson narrowed his eyes and slammed his fist into the man. The overlooker snarled and threw Wilson into the broken machine and that's when all hell broke loose.

* * *

Maxwell inhaled from his cigar and listened to Charlie give the weekly reports when an overlooker barged through the door. He was panting out of breath and looked at his boss with troubled eyes.

"Sir!" He gasped.

"Say pal, you want to try knocking before-"

"I'm sorry sir but a fight has broken out! It's madness down there!"

Charlie gasped and turned to Maxwell. "Sir, would you like me to handle it?"

Maxwell stood up and walked to the window behind his desk. Indeed, there was madness. All of his workers had broken out into a riot of fights.

"No. I'll handle this one, Charlie. It seems I have to remind my workers just who it is they work for." Maxwell replied. He walked out of his office with Charlie and the overlooker following behind.

He stood at the top of the staircase, watching the workers act like the filthy barbarians he knew they were. He shook his head in disgust and anger. He reached inside his jacket for a cigar and lit it. He took a deep drag then blew it out before he descended down the steps. He stepped off the bottom step and slowly strolled into the chaos, like it was a walk in the park. With each step he took into the riot, his workers stopped what they were doing immediately. They're eyes were so wide it was like they'd pop out of their sockets. Their bodies trembled in paralyzing fear. They knew instantly that they were all in deep shit. Soon, all bodies became stone and they fell silent when Maxwell reached the end of the room. He watched in annoyance as one overlooker continued to punch a worker.

"Say pal, I believe that's enough."

The overlooker jumped, startled at that voice. He whirled around and looked at Maxwell with frightened eyes. He dropped his punching and stepped aside, revealing it to be Wilson Higgsbury. The tall man locked eyes with the mechanic, whom too was petrified at the presence of his boss. Maxwell noted the black eye and the blood dripping down from his head, nose and mouth. The tall man delighted in seeing his new interest's abused state but kept it hidden for the time being. Now, wasn't the time for that. He turned around and glowered into each terrified eye, taking parts of their soul with his harsh gaze.

"Gentlemen, why are we fighting here?" He began. He brought his stogie to his mouth and puffed. He expelled then continued. "Is that what I pay you for? No, I pay you to work. If you lot would like to spend your day fighting and causing a bloody madness, then leave my factory. I can easily replace each and every one of you. And rest assure, if this happens again, I will personally make sure you never work in this city. You and your families with starve and die and I shall not lose a single night's rest over it. I hope we bloody well understand each other."

Slowly, his workers nodded. Maxwell smiled in delight. He brought took another puff and walked around, appearance like a lion ready to pounce on any one of the frightened gazelle.

"Now, who is the one responsible for this commotion?" He asked them.

One by one, arms lifted and fingers pointed to one individual. Maxwell turned and smiled when they pointed to Wilson.

Maxwell turned towards said man and raised his brows. "Mr. Higgsbury." His voice was creamy like honey. His smile was enough to send shivers down each employee's spine. They hated that smile. They knew whenever Maxwell smiled, no good came from it. However, they didn't know the true meaning of that smile. Only Charlie knew. "I would like to see you in my office."

Wilson swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. He slowly rose from the floor and followed Maxwell. The workers watched. They knew Wilson would either be fired or killed. Maxwell didn't tolerate nonsense.

Before Maxwell climbed the stairs, he looked back at his workers and announced, "Because you all participated in this madness. I am deducting your pay for today."

The room groaned loudly. Maxwell laughed and climbed the stairs. Wilson bit his lip nervously as he felt eyes burning into his being spitefully. They blamed him and he bloody well knew it. He felt it. Wilson nervously followed his boss up the stairs and prayed that Maxwell wouldn't kill him. His boss had already threatened to mount his head over his fireplace if he was late for work. He wondered what Maxwell would do to him for accidentally starting a riot. Either way, it wouldn't be good.

They reached the top of the stairs. Maxwell took joy in hearing Wilson's little whimpers of pain as they climbed. He hadn't even had a taste of the young man but he knew he was going to enjoy his new toy.

Maxwell proceeded towards his office. He past Charlie and threw her a look. She nodded, understanding the meaning. Wilson glanced between the two and had a feeling the telepathic conversation couldn't be good for his sake. The boss opened his office door and walked to his desk and sat down. He peered up at Wilson and motioned for him to enter. The mechanic hesitantly entered the room.

"Close the door, pal." Maxwell ordered. "We don't need." He chuckled. "Witnesses."

The blood drained from Wilson's face.

 _This is it. I'm going to end up taking an earth bath._ Wilson thought.

He turned his back to his boss and slowly closed the door. As he did, a wave of claustrophobia washed over him. He felt the walls closing in and he felt utterly trapped. Wilson glanced around his shoulder at Maxwell, whom was leaning forward and watching him a little too eagerly. The mechanic swallowed a lump in his throat then faced his boss. Maxwell didn't say anything. He just sat there, staring at him like he was a piece of meat. His heart thumped against his chest while his nerves tingled with anxiety. He tried to move his lips to form some type of word but he couldn't. He was paralyzed by those black eyes.

"Say pal," Maxwell finally spoke which startled the anxious man. "You caused quite a riot down there. I wouldn't expect someone like you to start one. Care to elaborate the situation?"

Wilson took a deep breath to calm his jumping nerves. He managed to slightly relax and when he looked back at his boss, a spark of defense and justice lit up in his face. "I started a fight, sir, not a riot. I don't know what caused the others to start a riot but I know mine. I fought the overlooker because he was brutally abusing the child workers."

Maxwell nodded, seeming to understand as he brought his cigar to his lips. He didn't speak until he exhaled the smoke but his eyes never left Wilson's. "That is no concern of yours, Higgsbury. You are a mechanic. Those children should have no concern of yours."

"Well they do! I care about those kids! They don't deserve to be beaten when they're trying to work as fast as they can!" Wilson snapped angrily.

"If the overlooker saw them slacking then he has the right to discipline them. That is his job as it is yours to fix the machines."

"He's a sadist! He has no right to-"

"-I've heard enough!" Maxwell snapped.

Wilson glowered at the man but obeyed. Despite the rage that was burning through him, he knew better than to anger the man furthermore. The man himself was frightful when he was happy. Wilson didn't even want to imagine how the man was when he was angry.

Maxwell stood up from his desk and slowly walked towards Wilson. He stopped when he was only a foot away. Wilson didn't dare lower his eyes. Although the man struck fear into the hearts of many, Wilson's included, he couldn't give the man the satisfaction that he'd won.

Maxwell clicked his tongue in glee and smiled. _This one is going to be much more fun._

"The fact is, pal, I don't care about your reasoning for the fight." The tall man started to walk around Wilson. The mechanic held perfectly still. The rage he had previously felt diminished when his boss started to circle around him like a vulture. "What matters to me is the amount of damage you caused to my machines."

"Damage? I didn't-"

"-But you did." Maxwell interrupted him. "You started the fight. My overlooker threw you against the machine and damaged them."

"He did the damage then! Not me!"

"But it was _your_ body wasn't it, Higgsbury?"

"Well-"

"Enough said." Maxwell stopped in front of Wilson, standing over him. "Now, here is my situation: Normally, I would dismiss you and ensure you never find work again. However, unlike the past three mechanics I've fired, it would be a waste to let you go, so, I'm not."

Wilson raised a brow. "You're not firing me, sir?"

"Quite the contrary, however; you will no longer get paid."

"What!? Sir, how will I survive?" he gasped.

"You should've thought of that before you broke my equipment." Maxwell chuckled.

"Sir, please! There has to be another way!"

Maxwell grinned elatedly at that sentence. He looked hungrily at the desperate man. "Hm, perhaps there is another way."

"Please, sir! Anything that isn't out of my pay. I'll do anything."

Maxwell's smile widened. He walked around Wilson, towards the door and locked it.

"Alright, pal," Maxwell turned slowly and faced his prey. "I've thought about it. Your payment shall be…your body."

Wilson raised a brow, not really understanding the meaning. The disconcerting expression Maxwell gave him reassured him that it couldn't be a good thing.

"You-you're going to kill me?"

 _I knew it_

Maxwell busted out laughing. "No, you sodding twat. What a waste that would be! I don't want to kill your body." He grinned lustfully. He approached the young man and invaded his personal space. He leaned down and brought his long slender fingers to Wilson's face and trailed it along the side of his jaw, brushing past the scruff growing on his face. Wilson grimaced at the touch and his frown deepened. He tried to pull away but Maxwell fiercely grabbed his chin and forced the mechanic to look at him. "I want to feel your body."

Wilson gasped and attempted to pull away but Maxwell's arm snaked around his waist, bringing his body towards his. He squirmed and attempted to push away but his boss forbad it.

"Wha-what're you doing?" Wilson stammered "This is hardly appropriate behavior!"

"Neither was yours earlier." His voice was thick and creamy.

"This still-"

"Listen to me, boy, I don't give a damn about appropriate behavior. What I give a damn is how you're going to repay me for the damage _you've_ caused. If you don't want me to take it out of your pay, then submit to me."

"Sir, I-" Wilson gasped and understood everything once he felt the man's bulge brush up against him.

Maxwell chuckled and his tongue clicked in glee, his lips curled into a dangerous grin. He watched the realization strike Wilson's face. Before the other could react, Maxwell pushed him back into the desk, taking delight in how he lost his footing.

Wilson cried out, arms failing to brace his body as the wood corners hit his bruised spine, a terrible pain blooming in his back. The taller man took advantage of the situation, marching over, body leering over his small companion and trapping him between his arms. Not wasting any time, he smashed their lips together. Heavy heated bites nipped at Wilson's quivering lips and he was forced to open his mouth.

Maxwell groaned into the movements and slithered his tongue into the wet heat, devouring him and moaning at the metallic copper flavor mixed with the sweet taste of Wilson. His arm around Wilson tightened, pulling him against his body and grinding into his hard on. He compelled Wilson's lips to move with his and he continued to lick and suck every inch of them.

Wilson's eyes were wide and his body stunned in shock. He couldn't even register what was happening until Maxwell pulled away with a trial of saliva dripping between lips. Maxwell felt his cock twitch at the sight of Wilson, terrified and vulnerable and knew he couldn't contain it any longer.

Pushing the mechanic onto his desk, he slammed his lips back onto the other's to silence him from speaking. Dexterous hands immediately got to work undoing Wilson's trouser pants while a sound escaped Wilson's throat, almost like a tiny scream. He fought against his boss, trying desperately to free himself and knocking his hand away, only for it to immediately resume its work on his trouser button. Maxwell was practically crawling over Wilson, preventing him from his futile attempts at escape, his struggles fueling the smile on Maxwell's lips as the man continued to squirm, desperation and terror evident on his face.

Maxwell's long gloved hands aimed for Wilson's trousers again, this time succeeding in undoing them. He took great pleasure in hearing the button pop open and he pulled the fabric down his legs, leaving them to pool around his ankles. Separating their lips again, the wet skin making a smacking sound, Maxwell watched Wilson's face, beads of sweat forming at his temples and cheeks flushing a brilliant red. He looked away only to remove the man's pants and one of his shoes, leaving the man in only his drawers, but Wilson thought it to be the perfect time to attempt to escape. Unfortunately, Maxwell was ready, and held him firmly in place.

"Nice try, pal. You're not going anywhere." Maxwell chuckled darkly, squeezing his worker's wrist.

"Let me go!" Wilson pleaded, gasping from the adrenaline. "This isn't what I meant by payment!"

"Oh?" Maxwell quirked a brow, loving the play on words he had so intelligently used. "But you did say you'll do anything as long as I don't take it out of your pay, did you not?"

Wilson shook his head, practically crying from frustration, and Maxwell could sense how distressed his little friend was.

"I didn't mean this!" he refuted. "Anything but this! Please, sir!" Wilson begged, eyes brimming with tears he didn't notice were there.

Maxwell glanced at him with a sinister sneer. "This is the only payment I'm accepting, pal."

"No! No!" Wilson shouted and started to flail violently.

He managed to slip out of Maxwell's grasp once the man took off his other boot. Wilson slammed his foot into his face then bolted for the door, fire in his veins. He fumbled with the locks and knobs, panting heavily as his eyes darted between the confusing contraptions while frequently glancing over his shoulder at the man now recovering on the floor. He caught sight of Maxwell glowering at him with dark anger and Wilson's eyes widened. Wasting no time, he began pounding onto the door, screaming for Charlie's help.

"Charlie knows about this, darling. She won't help you." Maxwell had gotten up quickly and appeared behind the mechanic, leaning against the door, his arm above Wilson's head.

The smaller man jumped when he felt the presence of the other. He wasn't ready. He didn't even see him move. Wilson's stomach dropped and he felt sick, gut filling with dread, his knuckles shaking as they gripped the knob, as if his useless attempt at escape was still possible. He let out a choked sob, cautiously peering over his shoulder, and saw the dark look present on the taller man's gaunt face. Before he could react, Maxwell slapped the boy across the face so hard he fell to the floor.

Maxwell was overjoyed with the pained sounds he made and reached down, gripping a handful of his soft hair and dragging him across the floor. Wilson yelped and hissed as he felt some of his roots ripping from his head and his hands scratched against the ones tangled in his hair.

Maxwell threw him onto the desk once again, this time, he fell on top of it. The tall man flipped him over, tearing down his drawers and slipping them off his ankles in an instant. Wilson's body shook against the action and he attempted to escape again, but Maxwell pressed his weight into him, crushing him into the desk, the heavy body above him leaving him trapped and helpless.

While Wilson cried out and tried to resist, Maxwell took in the beauty of his new toy's bare lower half. His tongue flicked across his lips as he stared at the perfectly plump ass. It was perfectly sculpted, one that would put any of the talented artists in London to shame. The edge of his lips curled with sadistic excitement at the thought of how incredibly he was going feel.

Maxwell tossed his cigar to the side and removed his gloves, ready to destroy every inch of Wilson that he could touch.

Taking no time to rest, Maxwell brought a hand around Wilson's front and shoved two fingers inside his parted lips, pushing them down against his warm tongue and sliding them around the back of his throat, gagging him. His other hand creeped down Wilson's back, trailing a bony finger along his spine and making him jump when it reached the crevice of his ass. Slowly, he circled Wilson's entrance. His finger prodded and teased without halting at the right ring of muscles. Without a hint of warning he pressed in, the resistance giving way under his sharp finger and rough movements.

Below him Wilson gasped out but remained silent, the pain he felt at that moment had his eyes squeezing shut and fingers clawing uselessly at the desk. Maxwell watched him as his shoulders shook, silent tears sending a shiver of pleasure up Maxwell's spine. Leaning down he kissed the back of his neck in a romantic gesture that just felt revolting and wrong and made Wilson choke out a wet sob. Maxwell grinned viciously against his employee's soft skin and, pausing to absorb his reaction, jammed his finger all the way in.

Wilson cried out instantly and jolted and fought against the man's weight holding him down. When the movement caused the finger to scratch and stab against his delicate insides he froze and gritted his teeth in a painful attempt to hold back his whines. The sensation was completely foreign and painful. The long slender finger slid against his walls and circled inside deeper than he thought was possible. His boss pressed another finger in and Wilson couldn't stop the desperate begging he gasped out between the agonizing strokes of his boss' fingers.

"Sir, please!" he gritted. "Stop!"

Wilson cried out and gripped the edge of the desk, too stunned to move or do anything except accept his fate. When a third finger was inserted and then a fourth, Wilson's voice peeked higher and higher until he eventually stopped all together. A bead of sweat dripped down off his nose, the sensation of being violated made worse by the unwelcome kisses and licks Maxwell was forcing onto his neck.

When Wilson was stretched out enough, his hole red and raw, Maxwell pulled his fingers out. He straightened himself up, leaving a harsh bite on his skin as he did. Gripping Wilson by his hair he threw him to the floor and straddled his hips to hold him down.

After he undid his garments he stroked himself, taking in Wilson's look of absolute horror, then forced his cock all the way into his captive's mouth. Wilson's eyes were red with tears, his mouth wet with copious amounts of saliva as he choked and gagged, not daring to bite down.

When his cock was thick and wet with spit, Maxwell pulled out, a line dripping between his tip and Wilson's swollen lips. He yanked Wilson back onto the desk then positioned himself just outside his entrance. His hole was still sufficiently open and he was on edge with carnal desire just imagining what it would look like engulfing his cock.

Wilson made the mistake of looking back at the man, brown eyes wide and terrified. It set Maxwell off. He couldn't wait anymore. He let out a growl from deep in his chest, fingers piercing into Wilson's hips and pulled a cry from him. But it was nothing compared to the scream he made when Maxwell rammed inside him, filling him completely in one violent thrust.

Wilson's cries echoed, music to Maxwell's ears, tears falling from his eyes at the excruciating pain that was ripping him apart. He felt his lower half splitting and could feel the thick blood oozing out of him with each movement from the man behind him, trickling down his thighs.

Maxwell was alive on cloud 9. He was so high off bliss; he'd end up in hell once he crashed down. Wilson was so tight, so incredibly tight and untouched. His insides were hot and wet and wrapped around his huge cock as it jammed its way inside every crevice Wilson had. It was almost suffocating. Maxwell's cock slid in and out, cum and blood and saliva making wet noises as he fucked his employee.

The only sounds in the room were the fast pace of skin-on-skin and Wilson's cries that were quieting down as his energy died along with his will to fight. Maxwell's stomach quivered against the heat building there, hot pressure sending familiar jolts of pleasure through his cock. His speed picked up as he felt his orgasm building and finally he broke apart. He gripped onto the man below him and moaned in sweet ecstasy, shaking as he released inside Wilson.

Wilson sobbed out as he felt his insides fill up. Disgusting fluid staining his skin and dirtying him, he lied lifeless on top of the desk. He felt like a broken toy. He felt like his soul had deserted his body. Filthy, empty, used. He wanted to die.

Maxwell closed his eyes and sighed as he wiped away the sweat from his forehead. It had been a long time since he had that kind of workout. He redressed himself quickly, professionalism ever important, and stood up, he adjusted himself and sat in his chair with a smug expression. He smiled down at the lifeless form that was Wilson's body, lying there twitching, head on the desk with his tears pooling on the wood.

Maxwell leaned back in his chair and reached in his jacket for his cigar, lighting it and taking a deep inhale. Smiling, he exhaled the smoke in poor Wilson's face and chuckled when he coughed. Pathetic. He leaned forward and claimed Wilson's lips in a quick and messy kiss before addressing him in a deep tone.

"You may pick yourself up and go. I'll see you tonight for another payment."


End file.
